by Ethan Jones
Carrie was sitting at the edge of her seat, glancing at the CSE report. She pointed to a paragraph above a large topographical map of the eastern Canadian Arctic, which took up half of the third page. “The US air base in Thule, Greenland is just across the Baffin Bay,” she said, exchanging a glance with Johnson. “A little more than 124 miles from Ellesmere’s coast.”
Anna stopped taking notes on her yellow pad. “You mean these ships could be American?”
Carrie shrugged. “Why not? The Americans have never accepted our sovereignty over the Northwest Passage, and they still cruise it without our permission. They always anchor an icebreaker or two in Thule, and their claims over the Arctic are as aggressive as those of the Russians.”
Johnson nodded. “I will seek clarifications from the US liaison officer in Thule.” She scribbled in her notebook. “But, of course, the honesty of their reply will depend on the icebreakers’ flag. I’m afraid if it’s Stars and Stripes, we’re out of luck.”
Justin stared at the Arctic map. A red dotted line indicated the suspected route of the two unidentified icebreakers. It was in the southeast part of Ellesmere Island. At the bottom of the page, he noticed the cape’s coordinates: North Latitude: 76° 59’ 00”; West Longitude: 78° 15’ 00”. How far is that from the North Pole? A thousand miles? Seven, eight hundred?
Johnson rapped her blue pen on the table. “What are you thinking, Justin?”
Her voice brought him back from his calculations. “I was… I was just reading the map. I know we have few facts, since radio communications were inaudible and the RADARSAT-2 was experiencing problems—”
Johnson interrupted him, “Yes, I’ve already given hell to the DND, no offense to you, Colonel.” She shifted in her chair, turning toward Alisha, whose face remained expressionless. “The DND blamed the thick layer of clouds, the whiteout, and an unexpected satellite upgrade for the blurry pictures in their report.”
“Judging by their route,” Justin said, “I’m trying to figure out something, anything, about the motive of this… this visit, if you will. See, initially, the icebreakers were sailing up to Smith Sound, north of Baffin Bay.” He leaned closer to the map as his hand traced the icebreakers’ course. “It resembles a patrol mission or an attempt to reach the North Pole. But, at this point, almost halfway through the Nares Strait, the icebreakers turn around, heading back.” Justin’s fingers stopped by Cape Combermere. “Here, they cross into our waters. This is the only place where this happens. Then they vanish.”
“And your point is?” Johnson asked, a slight tone of impatience lingering in her voice.
“Perhaps the icebreakers had an accident and needed to anchor on our shores for repairs. Or maybe it was easier to navigate our waters. The visibility was better, fewer icebergs, a thinner layer of ice, so the need arose to steer around and zigzag to our side of the ocean.”
He scrambled to correct his reply before her dismissive headshake. “I’m not trying to justify their behavior in anyway. I was drawing a deduction that may help us to understand better this situation.”
“But their motives for crossing into our waters will not tell us anything about their identity.” Anna raised her glasses to the bridge of her nose.
Johnson leaned forward before Justin could say a word. “I have to side with counsel on this one.” She placed her copy of the CSE report back into one of her folders. “All the deductions in the world simply don’t hold water in the face of empirical evidence.”
Justin lowered his head and avoided Johnson’s gaze. He threw a quick glance at Carrie, whose weary eyes had already accepted their fate. We’re up the frozen creek, her face said. And as usual, without a paddle.
Johnson looked at each of them. “Since we’re helping Marty and his Arctic unit these days, I’ve decided to dispatch a small team for a fact-finding operation.” She stressed the last words a little more than necessary. “Because of our shared jurisdiction over national security and intelligence, as well as the DND’s great assistance to our operations, I’ve accepted the colonel’s offer to join this team. She brings years of experience in similar missions.”
Justin wanted to blurt out his thoughts. What great assistance? Their satellite was barely functional, and she’s giving us nothing else. Maybe she can cough up more details, as the CSE receives them. But if she’s already made up her mind these icebreakers are Russian, how can she be impartial?
Justin knew from previous missions that as a career pencil pusher, Johnson had perfected the inter-departmental game of favors and back scratching. Assigning the colonel to the investigation team meant that the credit for resolving this case would go to both agencies, proving Johnson’s competence in forging strong cooperation. The colonel would also serve as the scapegoat, single-handedly responsible for each and every potential failure. Johnson was covering all angles.
“And because of the sensitivity of this mission,” Johnson continued, “and the CIS’s increased concerns about our interaction with our own citizens, I’m adding the counsel to this mission. She’ll provide her expertise during questioning of witnesses and collecting their testimonies.” She gave Anna a nod.
Justin looked up in time to catch Anna’s smile. Her eyes resembled a splendid sunrise over a calm ocean, with glitters of sunrays sparkling off the water’s surface. She’s so excited, as if making the cheerleading team. Justin suppressed a grin. Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s getting into.
Johnson looked at Justin. “You’ll be in charge of this mission. Carrie will assist you in gathering the evidence about these ghost ships.”
Carrie nodded after two long seconds, which, under the circumstances, was a considerable delay.
Johnson ignored Carrie’s passive objection and returned her gaze to Justin.
His heart pounded in his chest. The opportunity for a field mission was finally in his hand. “You’ve got it, boss.”
“I expect this team to cooperate fully with the Joint Task Force North and its Rangers in carrying out this mission. The Arctic is under their jurisdiction.” Johnson tapped a folder with her index finger and pushed it toward Justin. “In addition to maps and pictures of the area, here’s a list of useful contacts, Rangers, and local chiefs. Trustworthy sources that have proven themselves during our operations in the North.”
Justin browsed through the folder, his eyes running through the names and the pictures, searching for a familiar face. Johnson was assigning him a sensitive mission, with two strangers, whose credentials were yet to be tested in the frigid Arctic environment. The support of a former partner would be extremely valuable.
He stopped on the fourth page and smiled. A middle-aged man, with thin lips and an even a thinner line of a gray moustache, a long curved nose, a pointed chin and almond-shaped brown eyes smiled from the portrait. Justin did not need to check the name of the Canadian Ranger typed under the portrait. The friendly face had refreshed his memory. “Kiawak Kusugak,” he mumbled, “it’s been a while.”
Justin locked eyes with Carrie, reassuring her with a quick wink. Unnoticed by Johnson, who was writing in her notebook, the glint of his eye was caught by Alisha, who replied with a slick grin. I don’t want to be an outsider, Justin translated her grin. I will make my way into the inner circle.
“Sounds perfect.” He closed the folder and looked at Johnson. “I’ll contact the JTFN right away and talk to one of their Rangers.”
“I’m sure there’s no need to remind everyone about the importance of this mission,” Johnson said in an almost solemn tone. “It’s a time-sensitive priority, but the need for secrecy trumps the need for a hasty completion. We’re keeping this very low-profile. The populations of Ellesmere and Baffin are quite low, but the potential for mudslinging is still incredible, especially if things get out of hand. I don’t want to be accused of interference or pressuring the locals into cooperation. This operation should be completed without any scandals. Understood?”
She lectured at the group but lashed her pier
cing glare at Justin and Carrie. This is not Libya, her glare told them. Don’t screw this up.
They both nodded in unison.
“Great.” Johnson stood up, and the team members followed suit. “Start preparations right away, with the goal of departing as soon as possible, hopefully by tomorrow. Based on your findings, we’ll work on a course of action. Good luck.”
She shook everyone’s hand, and they left her office.
* * *
“Have you ever been to the Arctic?” Justin asked Anna as they headed toward the elevators. She was walking to his left, while Carrie was to his right, two steps behind the colonel, who led the group.
“Yes, Yellowknife. Last August, for a weeklong conference.”
“Summers are a breeze there,” Carrie said. “The winters, hmmm, not so much.”
“I’ve been to Iqaluit and Nanisivik,” Alisha said without waiting for anyone to ask her and without looking back. “Iqaluit in January, Nanisivik in July. A few years back, I ran the Midnight Sun Marathon, which takes place, of course, during the night, but when the sun is still very much shining in the skies, between Nanisivik and—”
“Arctic Bay,” Carrie jumped in. “It’s thirteen miles west of Nanisivik.”
“Exactly,” Alisha said. She slowed down and turned her head. “But that was quite a while back, oh, maybe twelve, thirteen years ago.”
“Arctic winters are far from a walk in the park.” Justin slowed down. “We get freezing snaps here too, but nothing like minus forty for months and months.”
Anna flinched.
“He’s right,” Alisha said. “It’s essential we dress warm, very warm. Plenty of Gore-Tex and many layers.”
Carrie nodded.
Alisha picked up her pace. “I’ve got to run to another meeting, but send me an update on the preps.”
“Sure,” Justin replied. “Since Johnson wants the utmost secrecy, we’ll fly commercial to Iqaluit, then charter a plane to carry us north. In order to avoid any unnecessary attention, we shouldn’t land right near any of the communities of eastern Ellesmere or Baffin. Once I’ve confirmed we have a Ranger on board, I’ll send you a draft itinerary.”
“Good,” Alisha said.
“Do you mind sending that to me as well?” asked Anna.
“Not at all,” Justin replied.
“Thanks, I need to be in my office in ten minutes.”
“I’ll keep everyone informed on any new CSE reports,” Alisha offered.
“That would be great.” Carrie shook Alisha’s hand, as they came to the painting of the explorers and their dogsleds.
Alisha gestured with her head toward it. “That’s Sir John Franklin and his crew,” she said to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He was a great explorer, but…. Oh, a sad story with a terrible ending.”
“Why? What happened to him?” Anna asked.
“He starved to death,” Alisha replied. “In the Arctic.”
Chapter Two
Ottawa, Canada
April 10, 6:50 p.m.
“When’s Uncle Jim coming?” Olivier tugged at Justin’s jacket. “It’s so cold out here, and we’ll miss the game.”
“He’ll be here in any second.” Justin scanned the parking lot for Jim’s white Honda and stroked the little boy’s blonde hair. “We’ll see the whole hockey game. Don’t worry.”
They were pacing in front of the main entrance to Scotiabank Place, the home of the Ottawa Senators, as the hordes of joyful fans swarmed towards the gates. The Senators were going to battle the Anaheim Ducks that night. In the words of five-year-old Olivier, they were going to roast some duckwings, instead of ducklings. Jim, a university classmate of Justin who had taken a different career path — financial advisor in a big bank — was supposed to join them for the game.
“Is he even going to show up?”
“Of course, he will. When Jim says he’s going to do something, you can bet your life he’ll follow through with it.”
“Oookaaay.” Olivier sighed.
He ran to the backlit decorative post featuring one of the Senator players performing a wrist shot. Olivier imitated the player’s body positioning, as he flicked an imaginary hockey stick. The little boy wore the same red, black, white, and gold jersey as the Senators, a gift from Justin. The first time the Big Brothers Big Sisters local chapter introduced him to Olivier through their Mentoring Program, the gift-wrapped jersey immediately melted the ice, transforming Justin from a complete stranger to Olivier’s best friend. The only thing that mattered to the little boy was wearing the colors of his dream team. When Justin was growing up, his older brother never took him to a hockey game. Justin tried to take Olivier to a game as often as his schedule allowed him.
“There he is.” Justin pointed at Jim, who was jogging toward them.
“Yeaaaah, quick, hurry, hurry,” Olivier cheered him on, and Jim broke into a sprint.
“Uh, eh, sorry… sorry, I’m late,” Jim said, shaking Justin’s hand and trying to catch his breath.
“Don’t worry, Jim, this is Olivier. Olivier, this is Jim.”
“Nice to meet you. Can we go in now?”
“Sure,” Jim said.
They found their seats just as the teams were about to begin the game.
“I told you we wouldn’t miss a second,” Justin said. The little boy was to his left, Jim to his right.
“Ehe,” Olivier replied with a mouthful of popcorn. “Why are we so far from the rink tonight?”
“We’re not that far,” Justin replied. “It’s the center ice section, and we’re only a few rows away from the glass.”
“The kid’s a real handful, eh?” Jim whispered as Olivier stuffed his mouth with another scoop of popcorn.
“You’re right about that. He’s afraid he won’t see the puck.”
“Yes, I can’t see the puck,” Olivier mumbled.
The start of the match put an end Olivier’s to yawping, and he lost himself in the game.
* * *
Regardless of Olivier’s cheering and the spectators’ repetitive chants, encouraging the Senators to “charge,” the first period was not very memorable. The occasional fights among the players could not make up for the overall slow pace and the discouraging lack of goals.
“Do you need to use the washroom?” Justin asked Olivier, whose sulking lips and sinking eyes showed his complete disappointment. The intermission had just begun, giving the players and the crowds a much-needed break.
“Oookaaay,” Olivier replied.
“I’ll get you another thing of popcorn,” Justin said, but his words did not lighten up Olivier’s mood. “You’re coming, Jim?”
“Sure, I can’t stand these Zambonis and the silly music from the nineties.”
They struggled with the steady stream of people and made their way into the large halls. The fans had already begun to cluster around the concession stands.
“Do you need some help in there?” Justin asked Olivier when they came to the men’s washrooms.
“No, I can do this all by myself,” Olivier replied.
“I’m gonna grab a pop,” Jim said. “You want anything?”
“Water, get me a bottle of water. Thanks.” Justin waited a few steps away from the washrooms.
“You said there was something you wanted to tell me,” Jim said when he returned. He handed Justin a bottle of water.
“Actually, it’s a favor I need from you,” Justin replied and took a sip from the bottle.
“Man, I knew there’s no such thing as a free hockey ticket.”
“It’s a simple thing, Jim.”
“I can’t afford to run any credit checks, Justin, with or without a CIS order. One day, I’m gonna lose my job for pulling such tricks.”
“It’s nothing like that. I promised to go to Olivier’s game this Saturday, but I can’t make it.”
“Oh, and you want me to babysit him?” Jim’s voice suggested he would rather work through a stack of credit
checks for a week.
“Only for the afternoon. His peewee league match takes place at 3:00 p.m. You pick him up, take him to the game, and then go out with him for supper at a burger joint.”
“Hmm, I think I already have plans for the weekend,” Jim said, the likely beginning of a made-up excuse.
“On the phone you said you had nothing going on because Susan is visiting her parents in Barrie.”
Jim frowned, silently cursing himself for making that stupid confession.
“And when you signed up as an Alternate Mentor, you agreed to help me. You remember that?”
“Yes, I do, but I thought it was just a formality, to help you do your volunteering.”
“It’s only a couple of hours or so. C’mon, it’s for the kid.”
“OK, I sit through his game and cheer for his team. But what do I talk about when we go for burgers and fries?”
“Talk about your job, your life, your family.”
“My job’s too complicated for five-year olds.”
“Not really. Say it’s like playing monopoly, just with real money of other people.”
“Exactly, that really covers it all. Very smart observation.”
“You know what I mean. Make it kid-friendly.”
“What did you tell him your work is like?”
“I told him it’s like playing Risk.”
“Ha. So, why can’t you do this?”
“I’m going to be out of town on business for a few days.” Justin took another sip from his water bottle. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“And you didn’t know about this trip earlier?”
“No, I didn’t. It came up today in a meeting. Look, I’m not trying to dump this on you and go golfing somewhere.”
“Well, you kind of are dumping this on me, but… where are you going, if not golfing?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Europe?”
“C’mon, Jim.”
“Who’s going with you? Can you tell me that much?”
“Carrie’s coming along. And a few other people.”
